The Same Deep Water As You
by glitteratiglue
Summary: Tam Elbrun's presence had stirred up too many old ghosts, remnants of a time long past when she hadn't liked herself very much at all. So many years lay between the people they'd once been and who they'd become, but he was still able to see inside her in a way that went beyond telepathy. - Related to S3 ep.20 "Tin Man".


**A/N: **For **juniperpines****. **Related to S3 ep.20 ___Tin Man_.

* * *

Tam Elbrun was gone.

Looking back on the past few days, Deanna searched for a sign; some indication that her friend had planned to take such drastic action, and found nothing. She wondered how she could have thought she still knew him at all, whether she ought to have noticed his decline sooner.

Nobody had bothered to ask more about him, dismissing him as a necessary burden they needed to co-operate with for the duration of the mission. They knew he was a former patient of hers: what no one knew was that he was so much more. All the crew had seen was the abrasive, confident, brilliant but emotionally fragile man: they didn't know or care that there was a person underneath all that, and had seen what they wanted to. It was natural, she knew that, and yet she felt stuck, and so alone in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time.

Tam's presence had stirred up too many old ghosts, remnants of a time long past when she hadn't liked herself very much at all. So many years lay between the people they'd once been and who they'd become, but he was still able to see inside her in a way that went beyond telepathy. Tam had known the part of her that was lost, didn't quite fit anywhere. That was the part of her that, to this day, nobody on the ___Enterprise_ really understood, not even Will; close as they were.

They hadn't been in touch for years: not something either of them had intended, but life rolled on and so did their careers, and, like so many things, they let their friendship fall by the wayside. And now she had to accept he was never coming back. Deanna had sensed that Tam had utter conviction in his actions, but that didn't assuage her guilt: she still felt like she'd failed him in some way.

Picking up on her distress, Will had tried to ask; his obvious hurt and confusion when she shut him down made her feel bad, but she just ___couldn't _explain. It wasn't his fault – he'd seen the best of the human and Betazoid halves of her, accepted and loved them; he still understood who she was better than anyone on this ship. He couldn't know that there was too much hurt tied up with her memories, nor that Tam's distrust of him had very little to do with his thoughts about Ghorusda.

"I'd better go," he said tersely, and she tried not to let it hurt her. Will would forgive her, she knew; he just needed time to process what she'd said.

The door closed behind Will's retreating back. Deanna put a hand to her cheek and found that it was wet with tears.

* * *

"Why don't you tell me why you're here?" asked Deanna, with more confidence than she really felt. It was her eighth week of practical experience as a trainee psychologist, and this one was being watched through a one-way mirror by her supervisor, Dr Tarn. He fully expected her to fail at making any headway with this patient; it only made her all the more determined to succeed.

She'd read the file at least ten times, highlighting anything that might have even the vaguest significance, and scoured the university's extensive collection of psychology journals to find anything she could on cases of precocious telepathy. It was something that was common knowledge on her planet, but rarely mentioned. The unfortunate individuals were never able to lead normal lives, given that their telepathy manifested in childhood and prevented them being able to form mental shields against the onslaught of thoughts from others. Many sufferers eventually turned to suicide to silence the voices, or lived out their years in long-stay institutions, reliant on a cocktail of drugs that subdued their telepathy but dulled their senses.

It was something that had always been of interest to her, but there was a painful truth behind that. Being only half-Betazoid, she had lacked the in-built mental shields normally present when the onset of puberty triggered telepathic perception. When her fledgling telepathic abilities surfaced, Deanna struggled with the constant barrage of powerful, intrusive thoughts coming from her peers. There were taunts and a lot of tears before her teacher finally figured out what was wrong, and it had taken plenty of training and a great deal of pain for her to master the art of mental shielding. Panicking, Lwaxana had sent her to a specialist, and Deanna had worked so hard at it that she now prided herself on having one of the most well-disciplined minds among her peers.

Still, she never forgot how it could so easily have been her sitting in the opposite chair, and it gave her an instant sympathy for this patient, whatever unflattering things she'd heard about him.

Tam Elbrun was only two years older than her, twenty-five to her twenty-three years; there was something unassuming about the quiet young man who sat in the chair opposite her and played with the leaves of the plant beside him. He didn't answer her question; in fact, he said nothing for almost ten minutes.

The silence ran. She didn't allow herself to be rattled by it, nor was she bothered by the hostile thoughts he was projecting. Despite her telepathic limitations (_"____Don't mind Deanna, she's only an empath",_ Lwaxana would often say), Deanna had always been relatively adept at picking up on the thoughts of others of her own species, and was able to ignore them if required.

"Why don't we skip the pleasantries?" he said suddenly. "I'm a curiosity to you, a freak for study. You're fascinated by my condition, admit it."

"I see no reason why I shouldn't be, Mr Elbrun," she replied mildly. "As a psychology student, I wish to learn -"

"- as much about the inner workings of the mind as possible," he finished for her in a bored tone. "Yes, yes. I know."

For Betazoids, finishing another's sentences was generally considered impolite, even if you knew what your companion was going to say. Deanna breathed in deeply, trying to tamp down on her irritation rather than feed him what he wanted. Her teachers hadn't been exaggerating when they told her that Tam was one of the most powerful telepaths they'd ever encountered, and that anything he could find to use against you, he would; even if it came from the deepest place inside you.

"Does this work with everyone?" It wasn't what she'd intended to say, but perhaps spontaneity would work better - after all, what did she have to lose? "This rude, abrasive manner than lets you push people away so you won't have to answer the hard questions." She folded her arms, met his coal-black eyes head on. Deanna knew she had him, at least for a second.

His lips twisted into a mocking smile. "You've read my file. So? Then you'll know I've been through twelve therapists in as many months, am unable to maintain a stable relationship with anyone due to my condition, and have been in and out of psychiatric hospitals for the majority of my adult life. Did I leave anything out?"

Deanna sensed it was best to say nothing. "Ah, yes," he continued. "The famed Professor Gart Xerx warned you about me, told you to be as honest as posible, because I would easily pick up on your true feelings if you tried to hide them. That was good advice. For a planet where we're all so supposedly open and tune with each other, it's really quite funny how much the average person actually shields from those around them."

He met her eyes, and there was something in them that wasn't exactly pity - he couldn't have borne that - but more like understanding.

"Oh, I ___see_," he continued; his eyes glinted with interest. "You're not intimidated by me because your mother ___is_ one of those powerful telepaths, and you're already used to no place inside you being safe: Deanna Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed. You're beautiful, aristocratic, rich, but that isn't enough for you. You desire to do good, for your life to be more than just a whirlwind of parties and functions and marriage to an eligible Betazoid man. It's rather charming that you'd trade all that to spent time around a degenerate like me."

Deanna winced as he used her mother's words against her; Lwaxana had never been particularly sympathetic to the plight of precocious telepaths, given the self-destructive way that many of them lived.

"I suppose you see me clearly, Mr Elbrun. But why don't we get back to why you're here?"

"Call me Tam." It wasn't exactly an acceptance, but it was more than a large number of qualified therapists with years of experience had managed to get out of him. When they discussed the session afterwards, Dr Tarn told her he was very impressed by her performance, particularly by her ability to stay cool and detached at clear trigger points. Deanna almost glowed with pride.

Tam was only Deanna's patient for a few short weeks, but it was enough for her to realise she'd never met anyone who had stretched and challenged her every perception of herself so completely. In turn, he let her see inside him, glimpse the frightened little boy who was afraid he was going mad, and longed desperately to be normal. That tendency was only compounded by the fact that, after several violent incidents as a child where he'd lashed out, his family had disowned him at the age of nine.

Subsequent failed adoptions by well-meaning but clueless people had left him unable to control any destructive feelings from others. If the state hadn't identified him at a young age and sent him for mandated special training that continued despite all the other upheavals in his life, she doubted he would have been able to function in society. But underneath it all, there was a likeable, surprisingly compassionate young man who yearned to belong.

It made the loneliness she sensed from Tam all the more sad.

* * *

"If I didn't know any better, Deanna, I'd swear you had a thing for that guy," Chandra told her weeks later when they were hiking in the Jalara Jungle – it was their summer vacation trip they'd been looking forward to for some time. Deanna's dress was stuck to her skin with sweat, and her feet ached: she wasn't in the mood for her friend's teasing.

"It's not like that," she insisted. Chandra just smirked and passed her a slice of utaberry pie, the pastry heavy with fragrant purple juice.

It wasn't like that, she knew - not from Tam's side, either - she saw him as more of a kindred spirit. They were more alike than either of them had supposed; it wasn't the same, but Deanna's half-human heritage and limited telepathy often made her feel isolated among other Betazoids. She knew that need for validation and acceptance all too well.

* * *

Her second year had just kicked off, and she was already absorbed in the flurry of lectures and assignment deadlines that came with the start of a new semester. She didn't expect that she'd encounter Tam Elbrun again, especially not at a Betazoid charity function. Her mother had professed she had a terrible headache and forced Deanna to attend in her stead as a representative of the Fifth House.

She was leaning against the wall, hot and uncomfortable in a clingy purple silk dress and painfully tight braided hairstyle Lwaxana had spent at least an hour instructing Mr Homn how to recreate in Deanna's hair. It was her first moment alone all night; she'd just spent the past hour fending off endless unwanted advances from various suitors. The latest one, an unusually tall man with flowing dark hair, had got the full brunt of Deanna's frustration when she told him, in no uncertain terms, exactly what she thought of his invitation to his El-Nar mansion.

A clear, familiar voice rang out from behind her. "Contemplating suicide yet?"

"Tam!" Deanna whirled round, her smile genuine as she embraced him. He looked well; there was a light in his eyes she'd never seen before. Still, she wondered how he was able to cope at a function like this, surrounded by so many minds.

"You look beautiful," he told her. "I'm allowed to tell you that now I'm not your patient, right?" There was nothing flirtatious about it, and, after all her previous interactions that night, Deanna found herself warming to Tam.

She laughed. "I'll allow it, and thank you." Without preamble, she added, "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Sure. But isn't that a little rebellious for a daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed?" They spoke every word out loud - something that was fairly atypical for Betazoids – for Deanna had learned early on in their therapy sessions that Tam preferred to speak out loud; it was something of a respite for him.

Deanna took his hand with an enigmatic smile and led him from the room, ignoring the pointed stares from many of the esteemed guests. When they got outside, he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Instantly, she realised that he wasn't that much better at all: he'd just gotten better at hiding the pain, but she wasn't his therapist anymore and didn't feel it was her place to say so. She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

"I'm fine, Dee. I'm not an invalid. I hoped you of all people wouldn't treat me that way."

She nodded, willing to let it go for the time being.

"You want to go ___where?"_ he said, plucking their intended destination easily from her thoughts. "Why all that way?"

"It'll be good exercise." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. They walked for some time, Deanna opting to slip off her impractical heels and dangle them lightly from one hand as she deftly navigated the ground barefoot. When they broke through the trees and reached the lake's shore, even Tam had nothing to say when they stood side by side and watched the moon's light ripple on the surface of the water.

He closed his eyes, breathed deeply. "I can't sense anybody." His relief was palpable, and she was once again reminded of the awful burden he lived with.

"Me neither. I like to come here sometimes and just be alone with my thoughts. My mother hates it, she always tells me that anyone could be lurking in these trees and that I shouldn't go alone."

Tam sat down on the cool grass and she joined him, hardly caring that her fine silks were now crumpled beneath her and slightly muddy at the edges.

"I'd like to see who could get the better of you." She was momentarily struck by how warm and genuine his smile was.

"Thank you. I think. I'm just sorry that it isn't quite peace and serenity for you – you're still having to endure my thoughts."

He shook his head. "No, Dee. I've always found your mind very relaxing, actually. Why do you think you lasted so long as my therapist?"

She propped herself up on an elbow, studied him with a curious expression. "I've never heard myself described as relaxing before. Especially not -"

"- by your mother." He grinned. "But you are. Your mind, it's so ordered and disciplined – everything is where it should be. It's like a stack of PADDS, labelled and categorised and perfectly indexed on a shelf. Whereas my mind is chaos, broken metal and glass all mixed together. I can never access what I want, and am usually consumed with thoughts I don't want."

"If I was still your therapist, I'd say your choice of metaphor was interesting." Her tone was serious, but a smile glimmered through, and when he reached over and dug her in the ribs, she dissolved into helpless laughter: the kind where you can't even breathe.

"I never knew you could laugh like that," he said with obvious surprise, when she'd calmed down enough to stop coughing. "You're so serious." Tam winced a little at his own bluntness (a foible that he could never quite seem to rid himself of) but Deanna didn't appear to mind too much.

"I know. That's what everyone thinks. Apart from Chandra and a few of my girlfriends, a lot of the other students think I'm stuck up." She knew she was starting to sound defensive, but couldn't stop herself. "I'm just ___busy._ I want to finish my psychology degree in three years instead of four, go to Starfleet Academy when I finish. They've just announced a new psychology specialism for science-track cadets. I can even do the first two years on Betazed - I'll only have to attend the academy on Earth for the last couple of years, which is probably the only reason my mother isn't going apoplectic over it." There was a fierce pride in Deanna's eyes that he couldn't help but admire, and her earnest ambition was charming to him.

"Really? I thought you'd do it in two." She shoved him, but they stayed on that grass until the sun rose, talking about everything and nothing, and he'd never felt so at peace with anyone, and neither had she. It was inevitable that they would become friends. With Tam, Deanna felt she could be still and quiet. There was no need to prove herself, or apologise for the human part of her and all its failings.

* * *

By the time Deanna had started her final year at the University of Betazed, Tam had taken the plunge and begun training as a Starfleet first contact specialist – his proficiency at telepathy would be an asset in many sensitive situations where a new alien culture had made contact. She had worried he wouldn't pass Starfleet's rigorous psychological tests, but they had determined he had enough control over his condition to not be a threat (it was either that or they were just desperate enough for someone with his abilities to overlook it, but that was something she preferred not to think about).

Few people understood their friendship, especially not Lwaxana.

_"____Really, Deanna, I can't understand why someone like you would want to spend time with someone like Tam Elbrun. He's not normal, darling. His mind is thoroughly unstable and maybe even dangerous, from what I can sense."_

Deanna tried not to care: she liked Tam very much and knew she was his only friend when it came down to it. In some ways, he was her only friend she truly fit with; she didn't have to try, because he saw everything of who she was, and he liked it all.

* * *

She pressed the chime. "Deanna Troi. I'm here to see Tam Elbrun."

The nurse who answered was brusque; clearly tired and overworked. "It's past visiting hours. Are you a family member?"

"No, but –"

"Then I'm afraid you can't see him." The nurse cut her off swiftly, but she could hear a faint voice in the background: _"____It's alright. I want to see her. Let her in."_

"Very well. Half an hour and I'm timing it." The gate buzzed to let Deanna in, and she stepped through the doors of the facility. It was clean, sterile, much like the places she'd spent much of her training in. The nurse led her to the room and told her not to say anything to distress the patient further; she refused to even leave the room until Deanna got out her University of Betazed School of Psychological Sciences ID.

The two years since she'd last seen him had not been kind to Tam. He was pale, his thin frame stretched out on the biobed, a hollowness in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

"Dee." His voice was thick, hazy from the drugs, but he recognised her just the same. "You look dreadful."

Deanna allowed herself a small smile, rubbed at her red-rimmed eyes. It had been a long time since they'd seen each other and she regretted that, felt guilty that she hadn't spent much time with him.

"I'm glad to see you haven't lost your usual charm."

The ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

"What happened?" she asked gently, even though she was getting hints of it from his mind already. "Tell me."

___I can't._

She almost jumped, it was so rare that Tam actually spoke to her using only his mind.

___Please. I don't mind if you see. It would be easier._

She nodded in assent. Carefully, she delved into his mind, peeled away each layer of pain and self-loathing until she found what he wanted her to see. A room full of people with many different eye colours, not just black. There was laughter, a thousand voices, like nails on hard plastic, scratching at her skin. The images changed, fading in and out, but the feeling remained. Her chest was being squeezed tighter and tighter, to the point where she couldn't breathe…

"Deanna?"

It was like coming up for air. Her eyes opened, and she found herself clutching her chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart that accompanied the very physical symptoms she had just felt. They weren't her own, but they'd affected her as if they were.

"You were around humans," she breathed, finally understanding that she had just seen parts of his Starfleet training on Earth.

Tam nodded. ___I'm sorry I had to do that. I just couldn't find the words to explain._

He didn't need to explain, because she knew better than he did how complicated and overwhelming a human mind could be – after all, her late father had been human.

"Let me try," he said eventually. "Their minds are a non-stop whirl of chaos and emotion, there's no order, no sense. They're so raw and…open all the time. I couldn't take it, Dee. I was too weak to stop it from breaking me." He tailed off into quiet sobs that wrenched her deep inside; she didn't even realise she was crying too until she felt dampness on her cheeks.

She took his hands in hers, not altogether gently, noting how waxy his skin was, stretched tight over the bones like there was nothing much left of him. "Listen to me. There is nothing weak about you, Tam Elbrun. I've never met anyone with such a strong and focused mind. It's just that you never learned how to keep everybody out."

He said nothing, but the weak hands squeezed hers, and she felt his mind relax slightly, the tears slowing.

"Listen, I spoke to a Dr Andros recently, at that conference I attended on Jalaris IV. He specialises in cases like yours and he's authored several papers on the subject. He's had some success treating Betazoids with this condition."

"Precocious telepathy? I didn't know any actually specialised in that, especially not on our planet. He's certainly not a Betazoid."

"No - a Ullian. They're telepaths as well, quite experienced at manipulating the mind. Some of them can even draw out forgotten memories. I think he could help you, Tam."

Deanna knew it took a lot of effort for him to swallow back all the sarcastic replies on the tip of his tongue, and she appreciated it.

"Thank you," he said.

* * *

Deanna pushed her notes aside in frustration, feeling Tam's eyes boring in to her. It was six months after his hospitalisation and subsequent therapy with Dr Andros, and he was better than ever – in fact, he was on fine form for his usual occupation of annoying the hell out of her.

"What is it?" she asked. "You're looking at me like I've grown three heads."

He smiled, reached over to deftly steal the slice of decadent chocolate torte that was to be her reward for finishing the sixth chapter of her thesis.

"Hey!" She made a grab for it, but he was already holding it out of her reach.

"You'll get it back when you start being honest."

Deanna scowled. If there was one thing guaranteed to irritate her, withholding dessert was it - and Tam knew it, too.

"About what?" she snapped. "It's not as if you don't know everything about me, whether you ask or not."

"Alright. Then tell me about this lieutenant you met last week at the symposium. He must be quite something, given that you've spent as much time thinking about him as you have dissociative identity disorders." He gestured to the PADD on her lap, smirking.

"What lieutenant?" she asked, feigning ignorance even as her cheeks coloured and Will Riker's stupid, arrogant face burned in her mind.

"That one." Tam's smile was triumphant. "Oh, he's ___nice._ If you're really as disinterested as you claim you are, perhaps you could introduce me."

She shot him a withering look and turned back to her PADD.

"Oh, but you ___are _interested!"

She put the PADD down, resigned to answering the slew of inevitable invasive questions. "Hardly. He's arrogant, over-ambitious; a Starfleet drone looking for nothing but a quick encounter."

He laughed. "And yet you still want to fuck him into next week. Well, I suggest you do that, unless you want to end up with wrist strain."

Deanna tried to look outraged, but she was already laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. There were few people who'd dare to make such crude jokes around a daughter of the Fifth house, but Tam Elbrun was one of them. She liked that about him; he'd never cared who she was or tried to give deference to it (not that her other friends did, but they were also members of the twenty ruling houses of Betazed, so, in Deanna's opinion, they didn't really count).

He held the plate out to her. She took a generous forkful of chocolate torte, savoured the slight bitterness of it on her tongue, and tried not to imagine what Will Riker's lips tasted like.

* * *

"Why can't you just be happy for me?" They were standing on her doorstep; it was a blisteringly hot summer evening and tempers had inevitably frayed.

"Because he's wrong for you," he said, deliberately enunciating each word as though she was a particularly slow Pakled.

Deanna's cheeks burned, and sudden hot and angry tears spilled from her eyes before she could stop them. She'd expected this from Lwaxana, of course, but not from him. She wrapped her arms around her body, as if to hold herself together, ignoring her every instinct to turn around and leave.

"No, of course I haven't turned into your mother," he said with a shudder, voicing the thought she hadn't spoken aloud. "I just happen to agree with her in this case. You always laughed at those square-jawed, earnest Starfleet officers. What changed?"

"I'm in love with him," she said simply. She hadn't meant to say it, but now that she had, all she felt was that it was ___right._

"Can't you see what this is? I've met a lot of men like Riker, and you're a fool, Dee, if you think a summer romance will go anywhere. You're nothing more than a stopover, a brief conquest that he'll forget soon enough. Types like him have a girl on every planet and starbase. It doesn't mean he loves you. Whatever promises he might make you, when Starfleet recalls him, he'll forget you soon enough. And they will."

"Don't patronise me," she snapped. "I'm not a child. I know what kind of man he is, and he's not perfect; neither am I. I'm not sure what kind of future there is for us, given our disparate career paths in Starfleet. But I love him, and he loves me. When I'm with him…I just fit. I can't explain it."

"___Imzadi,"_ he said, drawing it from her thoughts. She saw pure contempt in his eyes; that stung more than any hurtful word he could possibly fling at her. "So you're soulmates, now?"

For the first time, Deanna sensed the burning jealousy he was trying so desperately to hide beneath all the spite and sharpness. It wasn't because he wanted her to love him instead, nothing like that; she'd always fit with ___him_, and he hated the idea that there was someone else she could have that with.

Tam laughed darkly. "Oh, ___pity._ How kind of you, Deanna, really."

"I'm not explaining myself to you anymore."

"If you don't want to hear it, then maybe we shouldn't see each other. I'm going off-planet for a mission in a couple of weeks, anyway."

"Maybe we shouldn't." She turned and walked away into the house; aware she was being unbelievably childish but feeling just stubborn enough not to care.

_"____He's wrong for you. You'll see."_ It was called after her, and the casualty cruelty of the remark made her pause on her way up the stairs.

Deanna wasn't sure why she never told Will about Tam – it wasn't that she worried he'd be jealous, or anything ridiculous like that, rather that there was something so close, so private about their friendship that she wouldn't share it.

She was quiet at dinner with Will later, and had to reassure him when he anxiously asked her if the food he'd prepared was to her taste. She told him she was tired, even while her mind churned with the implications of Tam's sharp words. It was the first time they didn't make love; Deanna was too preoccupied, and while Will didn't mind, not really, she could feel his concern for her radiating from within. He insisted on reading the latest chapter of her thesis and sweetly offered comments, even though he knew she'd take no notice of them. She realised that he could tell there was something wrong, but he was okay with the fact she didn't want to tell him about it.

Deanna fell in love with Will Riker just a little bit more that night; the defiant part of her thrilled at the idea.

* * *

The botanic gardens were lush and green, and the spot she'd chosen was quiet enough that the silence was only punctuated by the soft chiming of ___muktok, _their petals buoyed by the autumn breeze. It had been a month since her shore leave on Risa with Will had fallen through. She'd marked time with deadlines and papers and lectures, working harder than ever; she was set to top the class for this year.

It was a hollow victory without him.

Lwaxana had consoled her while not-so-secretly breathing a sigh of relief that "___this silly business with the Starfleet officer" _was over. Even Chandra had been awkward – she'd been busy with wedding plans and was obviously afraid to be so joyous in the face of her friend's heartbreak. There wasn't much worse than that, Deanna thought: to have your friends pity you so much they didn't even want to see you.

She sensed the tenor of a mind she knew and looked up.

"Dee?"

They hadn't parted on good terms, but his smile was kind and his mind was open, as it always was for her.

"You heard." He nodded, but there wasn't a trace of glee in his expression; if he was glad to be right at least he was doing a decent enough show of hiding it.

"How are you?" he asked in that hushed tone that, from someone close to you, is guaranteed to break your last shred of control.

"Fine," she said uncertainly, wondering why she was almost on the verge of tears already.

___I'm so sorry._

She knew that was as much for what he'd said as it was for her current circumstances.

"Don't," she whispered, and even as she said it, she felt herself starting to cry. He put his arm round her. He was warm and he cared, and it didn't matter what he'd said before, because it was ___Tam_, and they'd been through too much for something like this to matter.

"What happened?"

She shook her head.

___You can look. It doesn't matter anymore._

She ___wanted _him to see; if someone else were to see those moments between her and Will, it would make them less special, and maybe they wouldn't hurt so much. They could become armour and make her stronger, right then when she felt like she would crack into a thousand pieces.

And so she let him see it all – the half-whispered promises made in the dead of night, private endearments whispered against naked skin and pressed in by his kisses. The arguments when Will's tour of duty on Betazed had been cut short, when he'd applied for the posting on the___Potemkin_ without even telling her. Their last night at the Janaran Falls where he'd cried and she'd cried as they tried to imagine weeks without each other, and in the end he promised it would be okay, that they'd make it. The humiliation when she realised he wasn't coming to Risa, and had only bothered to tell her via a one-line communiqué. The knowledge that everything was gone, and it had been ___real._

His eyes widened, and for once, Tam Elbrun had nothing to say.

"You can say it," she said through her tears. "You were right."

"No. He loved you. I see it now."

That made it hurt more, but he pulled her into his arms and held her close, and for a while, it felt like everything would be okay. There was tension, buried where she almost couldn't see, and the turbulence of his emotions mirrored her own, because he couldn't keep her out if he tried. Deanna knew it couldn't be good for him, but selfishly still wanted that part of him that was her friend, so she let him stay with her until rain fell from the sky and they had to rush back to the house, laughing breathlessly from the exertion of the run.

Lwaxana huffed disapprovingly from the sitting room as she sensed the additional presence.

___Oh shut up, mother_, Deanna sent, feeling slightly rebellious.

___Now that wasn't exactly very courteous, Little One._

Tam's admiration (and slight amusement) was clear; he smiled and took her hand. They raided the pantry and escaped to her bedroom with an entire pie, leaving a very puzzled Mr Homn in the kitchen, his beater still poised to strike the Betazoid gong.

He was hospitalised again just a week later. Deanna tried not to think about the part she'd played; he told her not to be stupid but they both knew prolonged exposure to the pain of others put undue pressure on his mental state. Things weren't quite the same after that.

She finished up the semester and left for her final two years in San Francisco; the pace of the academy and the overwhelming strain of adjusting to so many human minds left little time for friendships formed outside Starfleet. They exchanged subspace communications from time to time, but as the years passed, they dwindled to nothing.

It wasn't that she didn't care, just that it was easier not to.

* * *

She stepped through the doors, feeling instantly calmer when she was granted entry without a word. Ever since the argument with Will, she'd been wanting to come and explain things. It was late, but Deanna had no doubt her friend would be up.

"Counselor." Data looked up from some plasma coils he was refitting. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Do you think he's happy?" she blurted out, not bothering with subtlety - after all, what would be the point, with Data? He'd already told her as much during their earlier conversation in the observation lounge, but she needed to hear it again.

"Yes," he replied, and there was something gentle in his expression as he looked at her. "I observed that Mr Elbrun appeared to be content with the idea of remaining aboard ___Gomtuu. _He informed me that the purpose of his existence was to care for someone, and that he had found that."

She smiled sadly. "Yes. I see that."

For reasons she couldn't explain, the words spilled from her and she told Data everything about their friendship, leaving nothing out. The android listened politely, but she could tell he was hesitantly wanting to interject, even before she'd finished.

"Pardon me for saying, Counselor, but if the purpose of his existence was to care for someone, he longed for it because he had once found it through your friendship." He reached out and awkwardly took her hand, mirroring the unexpected way she'd hugged him earlier.

With a smile, Deanna looked down at their clasped hands and squeezed Data's fingers tight, filled with sudden affection for her friend and his oh-so-human attempts to comfort her.

"You know what you said about belonging?" she said, the words heavy in her throat.

He nodded, keeping his fingers tightly clasped in hers, and they held still in a moment of shared understanding.

"I don't think there could be any better place to belong than the ___Enterprise,_ Data."

She turned her gaze towards the stars streaking past the viewer, let a thought form and sent it out into the faceless void of space until it was no longer tangible and faded from her concentration. It wasn't as if it would reach him, but she had to believe that out there, somewhere across the stars, he knew.

___I understand._

* * *

**A/N: **Title from the song of the same name by The Cure; their seminal 1989 album ___Disintegration_ provided a lot of inspiration while writing.


End file.
